They changed into civilian clothes on the ship.
Sherlock pulled his shaggy, draw string pants on, and a single outer tunic over his scarred back. He kicked the shoes away and pulled on the Jedi boots, flat shoes were exasperating and dull. John came into his room dressed as his master's miniature, aside from the boots, he refused shoes all together. Sherlock stared at the boy, whose papers claimed the child was his son. John was very clearly not his son.
The iris, the ears, the genetics.
The child titled his head and gave a cocky grin.
Perhaps.
He motioned for the child to come to him. The boy crossed the room swiftly and clutched his master's pants leg. The elder knelt before him and passed him his saber. He showed John how to hide it on his person. John fiddled with his pocket sized saber, until he grinned fiercely at it. He dropped it in his chest pocket next to the reed pipes. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow.
"It won't go on without my command. I had it on me the other day and…it went on…" John scowled. "Fixed it, though. Kriffing thing."
"Little one."
"Forgive me." The boy said without conviction.
They had worked on their back story for hours. John had been an accident. Sherlock had not known of John's existence until he turned eight and his mother passed, leaving custody to his Gorian father. John was a mutt, a mix between Stewjon and Gorian, fearing for her son, John's mother fled to Coruscant. He had been raised there until he moved in with Sherlock on Tatooine. John did not refer to Sherlock as "father" or "daddy" yet because they were still learning of each other.
Sherlock passed over his bag and bear, John gave Mako a quick kiss on the head. Sherlock ruffled his hair tenderly. The boy smiled up at him hopefully, they exited the ship dressed as refuges. The warm sea breeze kissed both their faces, John took a deep breath in. He savored it.
Sherlock hoisted the boy into his arms as they walked into the hangar bay. Proxy droid immediately stalked forward and scanned both Jedi thoroughly. John pulled the part of a frightened boy as he buried his face in Sherlock's neck. The elder glared at the proxy droids until they fled to a loading manager, who waved them on. He glared at Sherlock's dark hair, noting the off worlders challenging look. He held out his hand for both of their papers, Sherlock passed them over.
"Gorian?" The stocky, blond haired manger questioned heatedly. "What brings you this far into the galaxy?"
"The boy." Sherlock said shortly. John peeked at the manager with a shy smile, the manager returned it. The pup was clearly Stewjon and even if he was a mutt, the pup was still of their origin.
"Carry on." The papers were passed back to Sherlock.
"Thank you." Sherlock placed the papers back into his bag, John was gripping his neck tightly. They swiftly exited the hangar bay, John glanced around at the clear lakes, the lush grass, and the small towns with smiling people. He tugged on Sherlock's ear.
"Master, this is no more dangerous than Tatooine." The child said happily.
"Little one, as ever you see, but you do not observe. They do not like off worlders. Did you notice the tension between the manager and me?" Sherlock scoffed. Even now the locals cast Sherlock a dirty look, they were ignored. "And be careful what you say, John. I am your father here, remember?"
"Yes, sir." John said respectfully. He wiggled to be put down, to which Sherlock obliged. John raced ahead of his master, his bare feet against moved through the cool grass. He was laughing joyfully.
"John! Stay where I can see you!" The knight called paternally.
The boy continued to run through the grass, his tiny hands gripping at the blades as his master followed further behind. He kept his eyes trained on his padawan, they were headed to the Baker village. John ducked in a patch of long grass, Sherlock panicked as the boy fell from view. "John!"
The child popped back into sight, he looked like he was trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry, sir." He looked anything but.
"Little one, come here." The knight commanded. He knelt as the child ran to him, he stopped the boy shortly. "You need to stay by me, John. We do not know where Moran is yet, nor who is working for him. And you have the observation of a bantha." Sherlock teased.
"Do not!" The boy said offended. He allowed Sherlock to take him by the shoulder and guide him into a small village. The buildings were tall and the markets smelt amazing. John's stomach growled. "Sherlock."
"Oh for Force sake." He pulled an energy bar from his bag and passed it to the little one. John munched on it happily.
"Oi! Off worlders!"
Sherlock turned in the direction of the voice with a bored expression. He quirked a cool eyebrow, but said nothing. John stopped to look at his master and then towards the man. The bald headed male gave them a hostile glare. "Where?"
"Gorian." Sherlock sighed pointing to himself. He laid a hand on John's head. "Mutt." The child wrinkled his nose.
"Keep to yourself now, you hear?" The man scowled.
"You are very loud with your words, so yes. We "hear"." Sherlock pulled John against him protectively as the man growled. Sherlock waved him away.
"Mas…Father, you should mind yourself." The boy said sternly.
"Not good?"
"Bit not good."
An awkward feeling passed over the knight as John referred to him as "Father", it had been agreed John would simply call him Sherlock. John was reading the map, his focus directed solely at that and not his early slip of the tongue.
"221B." John frowned, he glanced at several buildings with no luck. Sherlock watched the little boy walking around aimlessly, with a small chuckle he pointed out a large brown building with the letters 221B embroider on it. John nodded seriously as they approached the building.
Sherlock entered first, John's shyness immediately became apparent as he peeked around Sherlock's long legs. A kind looking old woman was smiling at them. "Sherlock, dear, you are late." She scowled affectionately.
"Forgive me, Madam Hudson. John insisted on playing in the grass." Sherlock actually sounded warm to another human. John felt jealousy welling in his chest.
The madam looked confuse. "Who is…? Ah." She said tenderly as John was pushed from behind Sherlock's leg. "Isn't he a bit young to be chasing an Acolyte?"
"Damn my age." John hissed. Sherlock wacked him lightly, John faltered as he realized how rude he had been to an elder. He bowed apologetically. "Sorry. I am so sorry." He looked up at Sherlock pleadingly. The understanding passed through their bond, and Sherlock picked the tired boy up.
"It's alright, young one. My comment was also rude." She said lightly.
"John, this is Lestrade's old caretaker." Sherlock said stiffly. He gave the boy a small squeeze, John leaned into his shoulder apologetically.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
"He is tired." Sherlock said softly. "Though you are correct, your comment was completely uncalled for." The madam nodded sympathetically, she showed them to their flat rapidly. Sherlock laid John on the couch as soon as they were through the door. John pulled out Mako and curled around him. Sherlock paid the madam for food and was immediately scowled. He shrugged uninterested and turned to his padawan. John ignored him.
"John."
Nothing.
"John."
Silence.
Sherlock sat on the end of the couch and shook the boy gently. John slid his eyes over to his master's form. "I'm sorry." He said again.
"Dull." Sherlock mumbled. "You've said it already."
"You didn't tell me there would be another Jedi here, Master."
"She is no Jedi, little one. She was a librarian and a caretaker of younglings." Sherlock said softly. "And she is meant to help me…"
"She is meant to watch me when you are away." John said angrily. "She is my caretaker now."
"John, there are things on this planet I do not need you involved in." Sherlock rose only to fling himself into a chair moments later.
"I can care for myself." The boy pouted. "This is my home, Master. I can help you find things and solve things. I can, I'm eight and a half now."
"You are still too young." The master replied sternly.
"Then why am I here?" The child grumbled.
Sherlock felt the spark of anger brew in his stomach. "I gave you the option to stay behind with Mycroft."
John disregarded him and squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to fight with his master, he didn't want Sherlock to be cross with him, but he wished the knight would trust him. John pulled Mako closer to his face, the knight was sighing heavily. "It is not as though I am going to abandon you in this flat, John. You will be with me a majority of the time as it was on Tatooine."
"Yes, Master."
"You are too young to face an Acolyte."
"Yes, Master."
"John, he would not hesitate to use you as in your dream."
John cringed. "Yes, Master."
"Little one…" Sherlock's voice trailed off. His anger was getting the better of him, not wanting to take it out on the small boy Sherlock went to the window and threw it open. He stepped onto the wooden ledge and clambered onto the roof. Being high up calmed him.
He let his long legs dangle over the side of the building, the breeze blew the loose clothes fabric around him. Sherlock scratched at his brand in irritation, the child would never understand the type of people the Acolytes were. Especially Moran, who specialized in torture.
The older boy had often been the first one to volunteer, eager to show Moriarty he was willing to beat the disobedient ones. He had broken Sherlock's leg once, which had enraged his former owner. He claimed Sherlock was too precious to be punished by anyone other than his master.
The curly haired knight bowed his head and fiddled with the pair of reed pipes he had nicked from John. He had contemplated showing John the memory of the day he received them, but it would have obviously made him cry.
It made Lestrade cry.
It made Rica cry.
It made him cry too.
"Demon." He muttered at them harshly. "Demon boy."
oOo
Moriarty was ordering him to talk to a whole village.
A whole village with woman and children his own age. Sherlock dug his heels in the dirt as his master dragged him forward with a bruising grip. The curly haired eight year old struggled in the Sith's hold. He tried to pry away the hand that held his wrist.
"Go away! I shan't do it!" He cried. "This is cruel! They've done nothing!"
"They owe me, my pet. They owe me much for my protection." Moriarty shoved him into the clearing of the village, the chiefton regarded him curiously.
"This is your weapon? A boy?"
Sherlock gaped at the gray haired man covered in odd tattoos. He shook his head fiercely, he couldn't run away today. He had tried it last week and the cuts were still fresh on his legs. He sat down forcefully and pouted. "No. You are the Sith master, figure out another way. This is idiotic."
Moriarty clouted him in the back of his head. "Do it. Or I shall use a crystal."
"Fine. You know I can't use the curse with my mind clouded." Sherlock snapped.
"Sherlock, Master's getting angry."
"Master's getting dull." The boy growled.
Moriarty's black eyes clouded. He glanced around the thicket, his eyes rested on a young girl child. "Bring me my whip, Sherlock. If you are so eager for punishment."
Sherlock brushed the dirt of his knees dramatically, he stalked over to his owner's things and produced the thin whip. He presented it to his master and pulled off his black tunics. He offered his back willingly.
A loud crack whipped through the air and slashed through the skin on the little girl's face. The girl shrieked in pain, Sherlock cast Moriarty a wild look. The tiny boy lunged in front of the girl protectively. "Don't!" He shouted.
The whip came down on another child. Parents immediately shoved their children behind them in fear. Sherlock looked panicked.
"Don't! Stop it!" He shouted reaching for his master's arm. The Sith gazed at him coldly, Sherlock flinched fearfully. "Master, I'll do it. Don't hurt anyone else." He pleaded. "Please." He allowed Moriarty to beat him repeatedly in front of the gathering Gorian tribe. Sherlock never shed a tear, he took comfort in knowing the other children were safe.
"Now." Moriarty said coldly.
Sherlock glanced at the chiefton with some respect. He mumbled a small apology before forcing his curse upon them. His luring voice suggested they each put their most precious items before the Sith. Moriarty gripped his shoulder in a vice grip, Sherlock winced.
"Good boy." This Sith said pleased as the other Gorians began to obey. Some dropped precious stones, others placed down gold coins with a glazed expression. That was what a human with no free will looked like. Sherlock stifled a sob as the chiefton obeyed him and laid down a beautiful pair of reed pipes. The boy snatched them when his master wasn't looking.
The Sith's Acolytes began scooping the treasures up and presenting them to Moriarty. Sherlock scowled at their narrow mindedness. How could anyone willing serve that hundark?
Sherlock hid the pipes on him, Moriarty passed by him with a small sneer. His associates in tail behind him. "I am so proud of you, Sherlock. I may actually remember to feed you tonight." The Sith walked pass him without another word.
Sherlock stumbled up to the chiefton, proud of his victory and timidly held out the pipes. He gave a small smile.
And was smacked across the face.
"Demon." The elder hissed. "Demon boy." The tattooed man yanked the pipes from his small hands and flung it into a river. "May your ears never be nipped, may it be filled with sorrow, Demon. I foresee a deserved hard life for you. Few will love you."
The boy staggered and fell away from the elder with tears in his eyes. He didn't want to cry in front of the cruel elder, but a scowled at eight year old was not easily calmed. The child scrambled up.
He ran towards the river, vowing to never feel compassion for another, not affection, not love. He pulled the reed pipes from the mud and raised them above his head in remembrance.
"Demon." He hissed.
The present Sherlock opened his eyes in pain, dark engulfed him as he sighed angrily. Perhaps he should let John accompany more often, the boy was in need of stealth trai…
"Master?" A thin voice whispered.
Sherlock leaned over the roof and poked his head through the window. John had tears streaming down his cheeks, he looked as though someone had kicked his akk puppy. "I didn't mean to, but I fell asleep…a-and I-I…"
"Dream jumped." Sherlock mumbled. He bent down and heaved John onto the roof by the child's armpits. John threw himself into his master's arms the moment he was safe on the roof.
They said nothing.
Sherlock didn't want to speak.
John didn't know what to say.
Sherlock rocked him gently, the boy clung to him as though his life depended on it. Sherlock stroked his hair tenderly. The child nipped his ear, and Sherlock growled appreciatively. John's tears soaked his chest. "Everyday. I'm going to do that every day, Master." John nipped his ear again.
"Little one." Sherlock soothed.
"Why do you keep those, Master?" John wept.
"To remind me no matter what I do people will only see one thing." Sherlock said shortly.
"I will always see you as my master. Always. That cruel…"
"Why do you see it as a cruelty, little one? It simply reminds me what narrow minded people there are in the world. They are not worth my attention, not worth my care." Sherlock brought the boy in closer. "I am loved by few, because I only…care for few." Sherlock rested his chin on the blond head.
"I care for you, Master."
"I suppose, if I must, I care for you too, John." Sherlock teased. "But you really must learn better manners. I can't imagine where such atrocities came from."
The boy gave him a slow smile.
"Yes, Master."
Sherlock nipped the boy's ear softly.